Confusing What is Real
by futurerustfuture-dust
Summary: ""You're rather handsy today," she commented, voice husky as she dog-eared the page and closed the book in favor of turning on her side, dark brown eyes regarding him. He could never get over that; everything else was right but never perfect." In which Loki wants Natasha, but has to make do with the best that he can find.


He could never pinpoint exactly when they'd begun . . . well, whatever you could call this thing that they had. He looked over at her figure, curled into herself, a book cracked open as she read on her side. Her red hair, so much longer than when they'd first met, spilled over onto the dark blue sheets. He watched her wet her lips, the movement slow and sensual even though she was hopelessly immersed in her fiction. His hand stretched out towards her, long fingers itching to feel her skin, and she relaxed under his touch, lips curling into a smile.

"You're rather handsy today," she commented, voice husky as she dog-eared the page and closing the book in favor of turning on her side, dark brown eyes regarding him. He could never get over that; everything else was right but never perfect.

He just gave her a thin-lipped smile. "I cannot help how soft you are." He murmured, and with ease he pulled her up and into his lap. She didn't fight it, and her pale body molded to his lean one without a second's hesitation, full lips pressed to his and hands slowly, sensually slipping down his shoulders to rub at his biceps. He held her carefully, hands placed on her full hips as he returned her advances, slipping his tongue past her lips to explore the familiar cavern of her mouth. The woman fused to his lips never remarked how cold his skin was, even as he felt her shiver beneath him from a mixture of the stimulation and the temperature change, yet she nearly burnt him up alive. He often wondered if She was this warm, though he half expected Her heart to alter the temperature of Her body until She was as cold as he.

Atop him, the woman ground her hips impatiently into his, the movement catching Loki out of his thoughts and forcing him in the reality of what was happening. The rest of her was just right, he realized as he slowly pulled the t-shirt she wore over her head and tossing it across the room. His hands slid up her breasts, playing with them so she arched into his hold and moaned like a well tuned instrument. Her skin was just the right hue, not too tan and not too pale, and her curly, deep red hair was soft and smelled of something sickly sweet, just as he'd asked her to. He still remembered how well She had smelled the day he'd met her on the hellicarrier, just the right combination of something sweet and something . . . he'd thought it was fear at the time, but now he didn't know. He'd give just about anything to go back to that moment, reanalyze Her every move, inhale Her through the glass of the cage they thought strong enough to house the demigod.

His fingers dipped lower on his doppelganger's body, rubbing her rib cage and flat abdomen with a mixture of marvel and arousal. If only she knew how easily he could snap her in two. If he let go—really let go—she would be a pile of bent bones within a matter of seconds. Would she lie so willingly next to him in bed if she knew who he truly was? No, and that was why he let her undress him slowly rather than resorting to his magic. If he had Her in his bed he could be rough; he knew She could take it. The Hawk had told him everything there was to know about Her, at first as part of the information Loki had demanded on every Avenger, but the archer had known the most about Her. He'd known what She liked in all aspects of the word, and Loki found himself salivating at the prospect of exploring for himself just how far he could push Her until She snapped, until it was too much and She was broken beneath his finger tips.

"Ow!"

He hissed in surprise, pulling his hands away from her hips where he had clenched too hard. Already he could see the bruises blossoming, marking her with the imprint of his hand. All because he'd gotten carried away with a fantasy.

"I'm sorry," he murmured against her pouting lips, and he laid her down beside him to slip down her body and press his lips to the bruising. She giggled.

"Luke, that tickles."

Loki chuckled, kissing his way back up her body, stopping to lavish apologetic attention on her near-perfect breasts, before he found his way to her mouth again. "Do you forgive me?" he murmured, trailing his lips around her jaw. She gasped, skin breaking out in goosebumps as his warm breath hit her throat.

"Yes," she whined, pressing her body hard against his. "But I won't if you don't hurry up."

Always so impatient; Loki couldn't understand it. Why bother rushing through the pleasurable aspects of an otherwise dull life? Nonetheless he removed the rest of the clothing from the two of them manually, and one of his fingers slipped into her slowly. She keened, eyes closing. There, that was better. He worked on loosening her up, thumb playing with her clit as he moved his fingers slowly within her. He wasn't content until she came at least once, body clenching around him like a vice before she went boneless beneath him. Only then did he withdraw his hand and replace it immediately with something much more fulfilling.

She never lasted as long as he hoped, and often times he went many an evening without being finished by her. She was never coherent enough to realize it, always near collapse by the time he'd grown tired of the act, and on the rare occasion that he was able to achieve an orgasm it was not her moans or her fingers raking down his back that got him off, but the thought Her beneath him, muttering threats in a foreign language that if he didn't hurry up She would end him herself. Those threats, the idea of Her writhing beneath him were usually more than enough to finish him off, but not tonight. Tonight he left Danielle after she'd neared exhaustion, though he was still painfully hard and nowhere near release. He wouldn't find it tonight, not with her, and though she meant nothing emotionally to him, Loki couldn't deny that she had her uses. Danielle's near perfect resemblance was enough to guarantee her safety, as well as his constant attention.

He was gentleman enough to tuck her in before he left, dressing in a whirl of magic that the sleeping girl knew nothing of, before he walked himself out and locked the door behind him with the spare key Danielle had been ignorant enough to give him. As if he needed it; he doubted there was a lock available on this forsaken planet he'd been exiled to that could keep him out if he had his powers all to himself. If. The Allfather had been specific in telling him that only his harmless, day to day magic would be allowed to remain; anything particularly mischievous would be stripped from his personage until his ten-year sentence was complete.

He bristled at the thought, pulling his coat tighter around his body as he stepped out of Danielle's apartment complex. He had yet to check in for the night, though he knew he was being watched even as he strolled down the generally empty street. Director Fury had insisted on it, and while normally it was a cheeky SHIELD Agent who thought themselves strong enough to watch him there was something different about tonight.

Loki grinned, his heart rate spiking as he recognized the scent of the woman behind him, the air practically broadcasting her whereabouts.

"Trying to sneak up on me again, Agent Romanov?" he purred, eyes glinting as he turned to see Natasha Romanov striding towards him, bedecked in her usual delectable black cat suit, left unzipped just enough to tease him. He practically quivered with anticipation, but the Agent's face was less than enthusiastic.

"Preying on helpless women again, Loki?" She bit, cool eyes surveying him as she came in close. "Or should I call you Luke? Why torment the poor girl with your mental instability?"

"Did you enjoy the show, Agent?" He asked as he drew closer, ignoring her question in favor of extending one hand to brush her cheek. Natasha slapped it away, the sound echoing throughout the mostly deserted street as her eyes narrowed, the most beautiful shade of azure Loki had seen in his centuries of living glaring at him. He soldiered on with the rest of his speech: "I would be more than happy to give you a private demonstration of just how excellent of a lover I can be; no need to watch another enjoy it when you could have it yourself."

Her eyes, if possible, became narrower. "Sorry, you're not my type." Was her less than inviting answer. "I've had enough of monsters to last me a lifetime, thanks."

Loki gritted his teeth at the word as she knew he would. It wasn't uncommon for her to goad him with the phrase, pulling the word that had foiled his once brilliant plan nearly a year ago into nearly every conversation they had. Every time the reaction was the same. He watched the corners of her lips twitch upwards in the smallest of smirks before she went back to business, explaining that Fury wanted him to check in at HQ once he was done entertaining himself, and with her message delivered the Agent turned on her heel and strode off in the opposite direction, Loki assumed to head home for the evening.

One of his hands twitched at his side, longing to reach out and grab at her, and he nearly swore aloud at the weakness. Instead, he watched her saunter away, eyes following every tilt and cant of her hips, memorizing the motion, always grateful for the fact that her suit left so very little to the imagination. Coupled with his earlier romp with Danielle? Perhaps the evening not been completely lost. As he took off down the streets for his flat just a few blocks away, he promised himself he would see to Fury after seeing to himself. There was business to be taken care of while the sight, sound, and scent of her was still fresh in Loki's mind.

* * *

A/N: I don't own Loki, Natasha or any other Marvel characters.

The title of this piece comes from the song Krwlng (Mike Shinoda ft. Aaron Lewis) by Linkin Park, which I also don't own the rights to.

Thanks so much for reading!


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